


(Not) Holding out for a hero

by Abbie



Series: Leave Out All the Rest [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Team Arrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver may be benched from Team Arrow while his memories are missing, but Diggle and Felicity aren't going to fail this city just because they're a man down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Holding out for a hero

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have some Team Arrow feels.

"John," Felicity said, poised on the edge of her seat, fingers stilled on the keyboard as she waited for her partner’s voice to crackle across the comm. There had been the sudden burst of clashing, meaty noises, curses, and static that always signified violence-in-progress, and then a protracted silence. It set her on edge.

"Just wrapping up, Felicity," John answered a moment later, sounding both amused and annoyed. "Little thugs are tied up to the streetlight right in front of the store they were trying to knock over."

Felicity breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She was extra nervous every time they did this; even with smaller jobs, she couldn’t help her anxiety. There were supposed to be three of them. Worry clenched her throat every time she sent John out without any backup but her.

"I’ll send an anonymous tip to the police. And did you just make a pun?" Felicity smiled, heartbeat lowering a little as she switched screens to watch the little GPS dot that was John’s tracker blinking back across the Glades towards the foundry.

She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost John, too.

But it wasn’t like they could _stop_.

"Maybe," he chuckled. "Maybe this costumed hero gimmick is getting to me."

She snorted, smirking, “Put you in green leather for three weeks and you start punning. What’s next, monologuing?”

He chuckled, the roar of the motorcycle dulled by his helmet. “But hey, no cape, at least.”

Felicity’s head pulled up in surprise, her lips spreading in a slow grin. “John Diggle, did you just reference _The Incredibles_?”

She could hear his grin as he replied, “I was a big fan of Frozone.”

Felicity couldn’t help but laugh. “Just don’t ever ask me where your supersuit is, alright?”

"Not unless the evening is in danger, promise," he joked.

She shook her head, smiling. “Let me guess, saw it with AJ?”

"With Andy and AJ, actually," he said, voice softening and going a little somber with memory. "Saw it in the theatre. I have it on DVD for when AJ sleeps over."

Felicity propped her cheek on her fist, humming sympathetically. “That’s really sweet.”

Digg “hmm”ed back. “Listen, I’m almost there, why don’t you start shutting down? We can call it an early night.”

"Sounds good," she agreed. Privately, though, she felt a twinge of guilt—like she was shirking her responsibility to the city.

They’d been calling early nights so very often since Oliver lost his memory. With just the two of them, and neither of them trained to use the bow like Oliver, though John did alright, it was just too much risk to take on anything larger than a basic patrol and intervention strategy. She worried what they were letting people get away with in Starling while they were still feeling too vulnerable to hunt bigger game, so to speak.

Sighing, Felicity set her running programs to save and began shutting down her systems. Removing the comm from her hear, she stood and walked over to the weapons rack, eyes wandering over the deadly sharp green arrows, backup bows, and throwing knives. She felt so useless, and it infuriated her.

She was at war with herself. On one part, she wanted to be more proactive, to find a way for her and John to carry on without Oliver, to keep going as before, to prove they were capable, that they weren’t giving up on Starling City just because they were a man down.

And on the other part, she clung to the idea that this arrangement was temporary, that she and John were just making do until Oliver regained his memories and went right back to growing into the hero she knew he was becoming. And it felt like betrayal, acting like they could do this without him. That trying to fulfill their mandate without Oliver, without their cornerstone and figurehead and leader, was an attempt to render him invalid; not needed.

And they did need him.

Sucking in a deep breath, Felicity squared her shoulders and lifted an arrow from the rack, balancing its light weight on her fingertips. Her brows lowered and her mouth firmed into a straight line.

As much as she would love to mentally save Oliver’s space on the team as if he was going to come “back” to them at any time, she knew it was foolish to act that way. His memory loss could well be permanent, or gone for months, years; there was no way to know. And the boy he’d regressed into could never fill the shoes of the man he’d been.

And more, that boy didn’t deserve to bear the man’s burdens, not if it could be avoided. Felicity’s heart may have ached at the changes in Oliver, at the loss of meaning she held to him, but she wouldn’t wish her Oliver’s nightmares and guilt, the stories attached to the scars, on an Oliver who was lighter for being free of them.

And she wasn’t ready to hang all of this up. Felicity lifted her head and cast her gaze around the foundry she’d sunk so much time and money into. She wasn’t ready to leave any of this behind, to step away from _her_ responsibility to Starling and just tell all the souls in this city it was up to them to save themselves from now on, that it was too hard now and she was opting out.

If the job was getting tougher, Felicity decided, racking the arrow again, then it was up to her to toughen up, too.

Digg walked into the foundry from the underground entrance, throwing the hood back and tugging off his gloves, clearly ready to be out of the tight leathers. They stretched too tight across his shoulders, biceps, and chest, where he was broader than Oliver. Smiling at John, Felicity made a mental note to acquire a suit fitted to Diggle’s measurements.

"Hey," he said. He sounded tired, but not exhausted.

Felicity hesitated, then turned fully towards him, having a thought. “Hey yourself,” she said. Then, “Digg, do you _need_ to call it early tonight?”

Digg paused in the act of shrugging out of the green jacket, looking at her curiously. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be, if that’s what you’re asking. Why, what’s on your mind?”

She took a deep breath in through her nose, then stepped towards him. “I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to spend some time on the practice mats with me. I’ve been neglecting it too much lately. And… maybe we could do a little weapons work?”

John tossed the jacket on the empty exam table, shrugging the tension out of his shoulders, standing there in the thin black muscle shirt he’d worn underneath. Expression drawing into lines of speculative concern, he folded his arms and cocked his head. “We could. What brings this on, Felicity?”

She tucked her mouth at one corner, fingers twisting as she shrugged. “We can’t keep acting like he’s just on vacation or something, Digg. And I need to step up. You need a more serious partner than a girl who sits on her ass on comms through every mission.”

Digg frowned. “Hey. No. I mean, yeah, maybe we should start acting more like a a pair than a tricycle missing a wheel, but don’t act like you’re useless, Felicity. We’ve always needed you, doing exactly what you do.”

She pressed her lips together, arms curling around her ribs. “That’s sweet, John. But now? We need me to be more than that. I’m never gonna be Oliver. Neither of us will be. And I’ll never even be close to where _you_ are. But I can be better than this. I just… need to put in the effort.” She ducked her head, sighing. “I need to _do_ something.”

Digg crossed the floor and dropped a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. She looked up to see him smiling fondly. “I get it. I just want you to understand that it isn’t that you aren’t _enough_.” She said nothing, not wanting to argue with him. Huffing a breath out of his nose, he shook his head and dropped his hand, stepping back. “And you have to know this isn’t gonna be something where I’m letting you back me up in the field in two weeks; it’s gonna be a while and a lot of work before you’re ready for that.”

Felicity stuffed down a surge of irritation. That was another discussion she could shelve for now. Jaw squared, she held his eye and nodded.

Shaking his head again, he chucked his chin in the direction of the bathroom. “Grab your workout gear and get changed. Nobody wins if we try to outstubborn each other, so we may as well just get started.”

She smiled at him, then stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Digg.”

He chuckled as she darted over to her bag, digging for her exercise clothes. “You won’t be thanking me when I put your ass on the mat, but I’ll take it.”


End file.
